


Olde Man Jensen

by 3988Akasha



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay, Porn, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen still isn't quite sure how to use this twitter thing. Misha is determined to teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olde Man Jensen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daleked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/gifts), [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).



> Shameless smut here, all. And it's all because of twitter. And of course the SPN Season 10 Premiere. 
> 
> The title is shamlessly stolen from [ElDiablito_SF](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF)

When the show first started, Jensen used to watch with Jared and they’d both poke fun at each other. Pointing out the poorly delivered lines, the episodes they all hated (everyone knew Bugs was only acceptable because of the homoerotic incest vibes the fans seemed to eat up), the episodes they loved. It was a good time, relaxing even.

This, this was nothing like that. He was sitting on Misha’s couch, waiting for the season ten premier, and seriously? Season 10? He was a lucky son of a bitch. But, it felt nothing like watching the earlier shows with Jared. For one thing, there weren’t buckets of various candies laid out on the table and for another, Misha wasn’t wearing anything but an obnoxious set of boxers Jensen had bought for him a few years back as a gag gift at the cast and crew gift exchange and a robe. The boxers no longer lit up, much to Misha’s chagrin. Jensen may or may not have removed the wires because no one needed to see that.

“Aren’t you going to change?”

Jensen looked down at his jeans and fingered the soft material of his Henley. “Nah, man. I’m not going to sit around naked and tweet the show with the fans.”

Misha shrugged. “Your loss.”

He settled himself on the couch, tucked up against Jensen, arm snaking around his neck to play with the short hair at Jensen’s nape. That was probably the biggest difference, Jensen realized as he squirmed until Misha’s bony ass wasn’t digging quite so painfully into his thigh. He brushed a kiss against Misha’s lips as he settled into the slightly awkward, yet comfortable amalgamation of limbs. It wasn’t the first time they’d settled in together to watch a premier, but this was the first time Jensen had a twitter account, something that was as important to Misha as it seemed to be to the fans.

“You remember what I showed you, right?”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “It’s twitter, not rocket science. I’ve got it.”

Misha didn’t say anything, but Jensen knew Misha doubted his ability to use twitter. Sure, he’d set it up at Con because of the fans and sure, he hadn’t used it much since he’d initially set it up, but it wasn’t that hard. Jared could do it. Orsic could do it. Hell, Mark could do it, so there was no way Jensen wouldn’t be able to do it.

All in all, it was a good episode, a great way to start off season ten, and to be honest, Jensen was more than a little excited to finally be playing a demon. Jared demonstrated his truly phenomenal talent while playing Lucifer, a soulless version of himself, and even when he’d played Sam as Meg. Sure, Jensen had little bits here and there over the years, the Leviathan doppelganger, his short stint as a vampire. He glanced back at the TV, smiling at the new haircut. When Cas, naked save his open robe appeared, he looked over at the man in question. He saw Misha’s lips quirk up into a smile before Misha caught his gaze and gave him a lascivious wink.

“You’re really making the most of not wearing any clothes.”

Misha looked down at the robe and Jensen’s eyes followed the movement. It wasn’t that he minded Misha’s near nakedness, not at all - he quite enjoyed it when Misha was naked, but it felt odd. They were spending time with the fans by doing the tweeting thing with practically naked in Jensen’s lap. It just felt a bit awkward.

“It’s still new for Cas, the new wardrobe. He’s embracing the freedom.”

“More like you’re embracing your streaker tendencies.”

“That was one time and you and Jared totally put me up to it.”

Jensen grinned because they had and it had be worth it. He picked up his phone and sent his first show live tweet to the world.

“Haha,” Misha replied, pinching Jensen’s ankle. “You’re doing it wrong, you know.”

“What? I totally killed it. You and Jared got nothing on me.”

“You used a hashtag.”

Jensen focused on Misha while the show was on commercial. “I know. You’re the one who told me about them during Con, and then during filming, and then last night after dinner and again today.”

“‘It’s not a pound sign, Jensen,’” Jensen mimicked Misha’s voice. “‘It’s a hashtag and they’re twitter catch phrases, like slogans. It’s what we want everyone to trend.’”

“Should have used the at sign.”

“Your face is the at sign.”

Misha shot him an un-amused glance, but Jensen ignored him in favor of watching the show again. Adventures of Crowley and Squirrel - the show gave the fans some fabulous lines.

“A charming badass with an awesome car? I’ve been called worse.”

“I was trying to demonstrate the difference between the hashtag and the at symbol. You use the at sign, you know at a person, then the hashtag for - ”

“Twitter slogans, I know. I’ve got it.”

Misha shrugged as he slipped his fingers up under the hem of Jensen’s jeans, teasing strokes around his ankle. He tried to ignore it, watched Sam and Crowley sass at each other, the death threats, the enjoyment of said death threats. Slowly, Misha’s hand worked further up his leg, touches light enough to be teasing, but not tickling.

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” Misha whispered, his lips grazing the shell of Jensen’s ear.

He suppressed a shiver, but the smiling lips he felt along his neck told him he’d been less successful than he’d intended. They were supposed to be tweeting with the fans, watching the show live or something.

“You know,” Jensen began as he tilted his head, granting Misha more access, “this whole live tweeting the show thing was your idea.”

Misha hummed against his skin and this time Jensen wasn’t able to bite back the shiver or the moan as his clever fingers teased along his ankles. Before Misha, he hadn’t known his ankles were an erogenous zone, but one night they’d been watching something and Misha had began to idly stroke along his ankle, teasing him for not wearing any socks. By the time the show was done, Jensen was hard enough to beg Misha to suck him off.

“But, this is more fun.”

Jensen couldn’t argue that and if Misha had other things, mainly sex, on his mind, Jensen wasn’t going to disabuse him of the notion. Priorities.

“I think I know how we’re going to teach you the difference between a hashtag and the at symbol.”

With Misha’s hand free from his jeans and slowly moving up towards the zipper, Jensen didn’t really care about the difference. Instead of answering, he moved his face so he could reach Misha’s lips, pressing an encouraging kiss to them. Misha returned the kiss, his tongue licking into Jensen’s mouth, his fingers working Jensen’s pants open, hand warm and heavy on Jensen’s dick.

“I’m going to bend you over the couch and rim you until you come,” Misha breathed against Jensen’s lips.

Jensen was more than okay with this new plan. In fact, this new plan sounded awesome because rimming - Misha rimming him and orgasms. Yes, everything with this plan sounded perfect.

“But, I won’t let you come until you can use the at sign and the hashtag appropriately.”

That was less fabulous, actually. That sounded the opposite of the amazing time Misha had been describing earlier. With the rimming and the orgasm. This new plan seemed much less full of orgasms. Those were important.

Then Misha had Jensen’s pants pulled down, fingers teasing his ankles once again and Jensen didn’t really care about twitter or hashtags or at signs or anything other than Misha getting his mouth on him now.

“Move up,” Misha told him as he pulled Jensen’s boxers off.

He must look obscene, half naked, bent over the arm of their black leather couch. They’d spent so much time shopping for one, and as he settled himself over the arm, head pillowed on the buttery leather, he wondered if Misha (the devious bastard) had this moment planned out while they were shopping.

“You’ll need this.”

Jensen looked down and Misha had helpfully placed his cell phone in his hand. He scowled over his shoulder, not that Misha paid any attention to him. Briefly, he considered throwing his phone across the room, but he wasn’t too sure how serious Misha was about the whole orgasm denial thing, so he figured it was best to err on the side of the orgasms. So he clutched it in his hand as he felt Misha’s hands spread him open.

His hands were warm as they palmed his ass, pulling the cheeks apart before blowing across his exposed hole. Jensen sucked in a breath because Misha was so fucking good at this. Misha started with teasing nips around the rim, tongue teasing the flesh caught between his teeth before moving on. When the flat of Misha’s tongue pressed against his hole, Jensen realized he probably should have paid more attention to Misha’s twitter lessons. The way Misha’s tongue was pressing against his hole, teasing against the rim, he knew he wouldn't last long.

“Remember the last time I made you come like this? From just my tongue? We were in your trailer and you were worried Jared would walk in and see us.”

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut because he did remember; he’d come so hard he thought he might black out, maybe he had. It’d been damn near impossible to deliver his lines later that day. Jared had kept giving him these strange little looks, but later he’d caught Jared and Misha high fiving and Misha had winked at him. Which meant Jared knew Misha was the reason Jensen had forgotten how to act.

Misha’s tongue pressing into him pulled Jensen back to the present. He arched his back, pushing his ass out further, hopefully making Misha’s tongue go a bit deeper. Misha just gripped his ass tighter, forcing Jensen to still as Misha moved his tongue around the rim, pressing just inside before retreating again. It was the worst kind of torture. Jensen never wanted it to end. Then Misha’s lips were pursed against his hole, a parody of a kiss and his tongue darted out, just breaching the rim. Jensen couldn't relax into any of it, couldn't do anything but uselessly try to grip the couch, as the leather slid against his sweaty hands.

The thing was, Misha licked and kissed and prodded his tongue against Jensen’s hole as though he never had to leave. As though he could spend the rest of his days with his face buried in Jensen’s ass, teasing the slowly swelling flesh. And he was being thorough; Jensen could feel the spit beginning to slide down towards his balls and he vaguely wondered if maybe they should have covered the couch with a towel or something before starting this. They were inane thoughts but he could hardly be blamed since Misha was currently sucking his brains out through his asshole. His tongue was warm and wet as it pressed further into Jensen’s ass, the muscle prodding against the sensitive rim as Misha’s lips moved around the outside, further stimulating Jensen.

He looked up at the TV, watched as Sam was interrogated by Cole and wondered how he’d missed Cas’ angel camping trip. He and Jared had teased Misha about it endlessly, asking if angels needed special bug repellent or if their natural grace worked just as well. Of course, that particular bout of teasing had ended with Misha giving Jensen a furious handjob and leaving him hanging, literally, for the rest of the day. Only letting Jensen fuck him once he’d been apologized to properly. The things he did to ensure Misha would ride his cock would never be spoken of, unless they were whispered in Misha’s ear to ensure said cock riding.

“You’re distracted,” Misha whispered, lips pressing gently to the skin behind Jensen’s ear. “Let me see if I can regain your full attention.”

Misha’s hand was on his cock. Eased by the spit that had been accumulating from the fastidious rimming he was currently being subjected to. He’d been hard since they started this, but now it was just cruel. Misha’s hand stroked up and down his shaft expertly, his thumb catching the precome and draging it down, mixing it with the spit until it was just wet and tight and perfect. Jensen rocked his hips forward, seeking more friction even as Misha’s tongue continued to thrust in and out of him. He could feel his orgasm building heavy in his stomach, spreading through his veins and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to rock forward or backward. He was just so close -

Misha’s hand tightened around the base of his cock and Jensen let out a low moan.

“Damnit, Misha.”

“You know what to do if you want me to let you come.”

Right, do something. He couldn’t think with the way Misha’s tongue was pushing deeper, teeth catching lightly against the puckered skin, the teasing way Misha’s fingers brushed against his balls. It was all white behind his eyes, white and perfect and just out of reach. He clenched his hands, feeling something solid in his right hand. Blinking his eyes open, they slowly focused on his phone. Tweeting - this whole damn thing was because of the tweeting and hashtags and at signs and he was going to kill Misha later, once he’d gotten off.

He thumbed it on and pulled up his twitter account, fingers unsteady and clumsy as they typed out a message. After fixing it half a dozen times, he finally managed to hit the tweet button. Not that hitting the button magically let him come, he’d half expected it to though and he bit into his arm to muffle the sound of his moan. His cock was throbbing in Misha’s hand, spit sliding down his thighs, into the crease at the back of his knees. And still, Misha’s tongue was working his hole open.

“I sent the damn tweet already.”

Misha hummed against him and Jensen cried out, “Jesus.”

It felt like an eternity as Misha pulled away from his ass, his hand still firmly grasping Jensen's cock. He pulled out his own phone and Jensen belatedly realized Misha was still wearing the robe, his erection pressing against the thin fabric of the boxers.

“Very good, Jen.”

Misha released his strangle hold and helped Jensen onto his back. Jensen opened for him when Misha bent forward for a kiss, Misha’s tongue sweeping in deep before he pulled back, dragging his lips along Jensen’s jaw, down his neck. He continued to kiss down Jensen’s torso, and before Jensen could open his mouth to protest, sucking Jensen down to the root. He wasn’t going to last long before, but now? With the wet heat of Misha’s mouth around him, the feeling of Misha’s tongue along the underside of his crown he didn’t stand a chance of holding off. He didn’t have a chance to warn Misha before he was coming down his throat, hips thrusting a bit erratically as he rode it out. When he opened his eyes, Misha was licking along the sides of his mouth were some had dribbled out.

“Come here,” Jensen ordered, as he snaked an arm around Misha’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

Misha pulled away slowly, thumb tracing Jensen’s lower lip. “I really love twitter.”

**~FIN~**

 


End file.
